Ophelia Monologue

How with a heavy heart I walk these stones. Utterly alone, my cold body feels What my mind hath undergone by your lord. As if chained I feel the spirit of My soul ebb away. As if like a tide My body seemeth to slowly ripple Afar on the churning current of thy Sweet yet biting breath. Hamlet! I do Beseech thee hence, how couldst thou shred so Ever swiftly the budding cord tied round My fair and beating heart? I beseech you My lord! Yet I know not whence this wretched Hate and distrust you fling upon me with Those blazing orisons, from the deep blue of God Prometheus’s castle to the black Seeming bile of an adder's goring Mouth has come. The coil of that terror You so wrapped me in has gripped and Grappled my inner being, my body Eateth upon the desecrated mind And soul doth so willingly loved before. Even now, I speak to the breathless air As if I could with willingness conjure That youthful Hamlet of past remembrances. Ay my lord, I know not whence this horrible Pain was born, but how it seemeth to grow And boil, never to burn into dust. My quivering hath ceased, for now my mind Returneth to its present state, high upon The moors rolling green, caught up by the breath Of a passing wind, as light and free as no Human seem. Alone, I view the expanse Of nature and the purity you once Spoke of in a time of companionship. I know not whence this pain Has come, and my lord I know not whence your Madness shall be deceased but I prayeth From dawn till dusk for your remembrance Of a time not blackened by the ashes Of your fathers breath, nor plastered with your Mothers white dress. My lord I wish for you To feel again. To escape the prison, the Suffocating damp of your very own Undulating mind. My lord, I beseech You, cometh back to find me, your ever Loving Ophelia, as I lay upon The briny sea. What clear blue it is, that Of the fair orisons, and that of my ever True soul, for you it pines, my love doth keep.

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